


You Don't Know How It Feels

by HarmonySong



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, F/M, Unrequited, based on a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonySong/pseuds/HarmonySong
Summary: Based on this prompt: Imagine Person A has a crush on Person B, but Person B doesn’t know and has a crush on someone else. Person B vents their frustrations about their unrequited crush to Person A all the time. After a particularly long rant, Person B goes, “You just don’t know how bad it hurts to like someone so much and for them to have no idea how you feel." Person A looks at them with a sad smile and says, “No, I guess I don’t.”





	

Your day started out pretty awfully; with a broken alarm clock, a five-second shower, and a ten minute long lecture from your boss about your tardiness, it was already shaping up to be pretty shitty, but it only went downhill from there. 

After you got through the lecture (mostly by nodding politely whenever she stopped for breath and giving her the appropriate fake-but-apologetic smile whenever you deemed necessary), you went to sit over at your desk only to find- guess what? Some idiot had spilled coffee all over your paperwork and hadn't even bothered to attempt to clean it up. With an exasperated sigh, you rushed to the bathroom to get some paper towels and clean it up, already knowing is was going to be too late. You'd have to salvage what you could out of it and reprint the rest. 

As you sat back down with a huff, mentally picking out some choice words you had for whoever had done this, you resigned yourself for a long, miserable day. 

What you didn't know was the worst hadn't come yet. 

 

* * *

 

At about lunchtime, an urgent request came in from a client- right as you realized you had a deadline for another project due in three days. A project you hadn't even  _started_ on yet. One of those days, you're really gonna have to stop procrastinating; that day was not the day. 

"I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to give us a day or two to process your request, we're extremely overworked right no-"

"I don't care about your fake excuses, give me my money back!" 

You withheld a sigh. It was times like these you hated your job. "Sir, I've already told you, you need to wait. Try calling us back tomorrow, maybe we can take your reque-"

"It's not a fucking  _request,"_ the man snarled, "It's about my own fucking money and you guys running a scam! If you don't give me my money back today, I'm calling the police on you!" 

 _Like that would actually do anything,_ you thought, seriously wishing you could punch the guy right about now. "Sir, we're currently extremely overworked in this department. We will do our best to get to your request, but it is very improbable we can get to it by today." 

"Do I look like I care!?" the guy roared. "I've been trying to get this money from you lazy jackasses for two months now and what have I gotten for my efforts? NOTHING!" 

You massaged your temples, feeling a headache start to come on. "Again, sir, we'll do our best to get your request processed and seen to, but I can't promise anything."

"You fucking b-"

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's final." With a click, you ended the call. You let out a groan, sank further into your chair and wished this awful day would just be over already. 

"That bad,  _amie?_ _"_

You sat up, rubbing your sore back; these hard-backed chairs definitely weren't doing your body any favors. "You have no idea, Laf." You felt a slight smile turn up a corner of your mouth despite yourself; Lafayette was your closest friend and co-worker, the only person who had even a chance of making your day better. 

He sat down, straddling a chair so his chest pressed against the back of it. "I heard the tail end of your conversation with what sounded like quite  _un âne."_ You stared at him for a second, and he clarified, "An...ass, I believe? I'm not quite sure what the exact translation is." 

You laughed. "Yeah, he was definitely an ass, that's for sure. Literally no consideration at all." With a sigh, you opened another word document and started typing. "Ugh, this has already been such an awful day, and it's not even..." you glanced at the clock, "...two yet!? Are you kidding me?" 

"What happened?" he asked, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

"Just a whole lot of shit," you said, resisting the temptation to bury your face in your arms. "Most everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. I just want this day to be over." 

"I'm sorry," he returned, rubbing your shoulder and standing up, an apologetic smile on his face as he continued, "I wish I could stay and talk to you longer, but I must go. I'll talk to you later, okay?" 

You nodded, and within seconds he was gone, leaving you just as done with life as before. 

Especially when you realized you now had not just one project to finish within three days, but two. 

_Fuck my life._

 

* * *

 

By the time 6 p.m. had rolled by, you were exhausted. Even though your day hadn't gone as bad as it  _could've,_ it had still been a hell of a bad day and you wanted nothing more than to get home, eat, de-stress, and maybe do that awesome thing called sleep. 

However, God must've really had it out for you, because your day wasn't over yet. 

When you were about five minutes away from your house, your phone blinged. You groaned, afraid it was your boss, and pulled to a stop, reaching for it. 

_Salut! Are we still on for movie night tonight?_

Torn between happiness and annoyance, you stared down at the text from Lafayette. On the one hand, a chance to see Lafayette- alone!- is not something you'd like to pass up on; on the other, you were exhausted. You'd had an awful day and didn't want to take it out on the poor dude. Plus, he'd taken up this annoying habit of ranting about his love-life to you,  _incessantly_ angsting about his crush and how she didn't like him and how awful his life was. 

You liked him, but-

But that's just the problem, isn't it? You liked him. And having to hear you crush talk about how much he liked another girl...yeah, it wasn't very high on your to-do list, especially after how tiring your day had already been. 

So that's why you weren't sure what possessed you to type in a quick  _Sure! You're getting movie snacks, though._

About ten seconds later, a reply comes in:  _Of course, amie._ You were still just as clueless as to why you'd actually said yes, but there was no going back now. You hit your head on the steering wheel with a groan, accidentally hit the horn, and winced. A muffled "what the fuck, man?" emitted from one of the cars and you restrained yourself from retorting with a  _fuck you!_

Finally- how long had you been sitting at that one stupid traffic light, anyway? Three minutes? Four?- the light turned green and you pulled away, turning into your neighborhood. Another minute or so and you pulled up to your home, where you then dashed into the house, frantically began cleaning, and panicked when another text from Lafayette informed you he was now ten minutes away (and he had your favorite snack, which, you decided, was probably going to be the only thing that made this day bearable). 

Ten minutes of frantic cleaning later, you were in the middle of clearing a armload of dishes from the table when you heard a knock on the door.  _Lafayette, crap!_ You scrambled to take the last dishes into the kitchen, yelled, "I'm coming!" and sprinted to the door, opening it with little ceremony and less grace. 

 _"Bonsoir,_ my friend," he greeted, lifting a bag of food in one hand. "Am I permitted to enter?" 

"Evenin'," you responded, "And no. Not until you give me the food." 

"Ah, you strike a hard bargain." With a grin, he handed over the bag, grinning wider when you critically inspected the contents. "What is the lady's verdict?" 

"Eh, I  _suppose_ I can let you in," you conceded reluctantly, smiling back at him, ignoring the weird little skip your heart did when you locked eyes.  _Now is not the time._

"What are we watching tonight?" He asked, following you into your living room. 

"I hadn't really thought that far yet, but I guess we could do Disney if you want?"

He gave a fake-conceited snort. "Disney? What are we, five?" 

"Well, I don't know about me, but you definitely are," you replied back, grinning when he gave you an insulted look. "Um, which do you want? Hercules, Aladdin, or the Lion King?" 

"You always offer those same three movies every time we watch Disney," Lafayette groused, "do you only have three movies?" 

You gave him a semi-offended glare. "I'll have you know I do own other movies; those are simply my favorites, thank you very much. We could watch Tangled or Pocahontas instead, if His Royal Highness wishes." 

"His Royal Highness does wish so, thank you," he responded haughtily, sitting down on the sofa, food in hand. "I think Pocahontas would be  _tolerable,_ o vassal of mine." 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the movie case. "Oh milord, how could I ever thank you enough for your kindness towards me, your humble servant?" You popped the DVD into the player and plopped down next to him, taking care to maintain the proper distance between the two of you. Lafayette handed you the remote (he had absolutely no idea how to use technology at all) and you started the movie with no more ado, settling back into the cushions. 

 

* * *

 

 

 _It had all been going so well,_ you mourned. Everything had been A+ until the credits of the movie had started rolling. Lafayette turned to you, then, with his trademark grin, and settled back against the arm of the sofa. "So, how did that date with John go?" 

You muttered something under your breath and he laughed. "That bad? Really? I thought the two of you would go great with each other." 

Because, of course, Lafayette continually ranting about his crush to you wasn't bad enough; no, in addition to that, he also had to constantly attempt to set you up with his friends (the time before that it had been with his best friend, Alexander; that had been an absolute disaster). 

You just shrugged. "He's a nice enough guy. I guess there just wasn't that spark." 

Lafayette pouted, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Once he'd swallowed, he said, "That's two failed dates,  _amie._ You've gotta at least give them a second chance or I'll run out of friends soon!"

"Or," you suggested, "you could stop trying to set me up with your friends." 

He stared at you for a moment, confused, then brightened. "That's it! I'll set you up an account on a dating website!" 

"Wait,  _what?"_

He grinned; it was so infectious, you couldn't help but grin along with him. "A dating website! You Americans have those, right?" 

"Yes, but-"

"Then it's settled! Where's your computer?" 

"Laf, wait," you tried, grabbing his arm as he stood up. "Why are you so insistent I get a guy? I don't  _need_ a boyfriend, Lafayette." 

It was almost ironic that person you said that to was the very same guy you liked. 

"I guess I just want one of us to be in a relationship," he admitted, quieter now. "Since I can't, since the person I- uh-" he paused, as if searching for a correct word, " _je t'aime,_  does not reciprocate, at least one of my closest friends can be happy." 

 _Ouch._ Never had you been that firmly thrown into the friendzone before, and you already felt traitorous tears well up. "It's not like I need a guy to make me happy," you protested, albeit weakly. 

 _"Non, non,"_ Lafayette said quickly. You could tell he was getting upset; the more upset he was, generally, the more French he started using. "That's not what I meant,  _amie,_ I just- _je l'aime tellement,_ you'd never understand." He sighed, looking away. "You just don’t know how bad it hurts to love someone so much and for them to have no idea how you feel."

You felt your heart throb painfully in your chest and bit your lip, looking away. When you'd finally mastered yourself enough to look back at him, you gave him a sad smile. "No, I guess I don't." 

 _"Amie?"_ He looked at you, confused by your sudden display of emotion. You fought not to grimace. "Marquis, please get out. I'm tired." 

Something like horror combined with dawning realization flew across his face.  _"Je suis- Je suis...vraiment désolé, amie._ I had..."

"I know. Please, just- just get out, okay?" 

He nodded and turned to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked. 

And somehow, something in that one sentence- in that knowledge that, even though he  _knew_ you liked him, he still wanted to be your friend, only your friend- that hurt even more. 

You gave a fake smile and nodded back. "Yeah, see you tomorrow, friend." 

The acidic taste of that one word lingered in your mouth for a long time after the door shut behind him. 

 

 


End file.
